


What happened in Vegas?

by yerbamansa



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 23:59:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17756015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yerbamansa/pseuds/yerbamansa
Summary: Or the one where David and Patrick get blackout drunk at a convention and wake up married.





	What happened in Vegas?

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up thinking about this and just wanted to write it down. Writing stories for me seems to be like napping: I can't do it when I TRY, but sometimes the mood strikes and I just have to get it out. So this is one of those.

David woke up at some ungodly hour—ungodly because of the throbbing hangover headache; blackout curtains meant he couldn’t tell what time it actually was, and he was fortunately angled all wrong to read the alarm clock’s digital display—and felt something weird on his finger.

His left ring finger.

It wasn’t one of his usual rings. It was _definitely_ some kind of regular-ass _band_. David bolted upright in bed and twisted the new ring around his finger. It was a little loose.

“Patrick?” he said quietly, then frowned. The sound of his own voice reverberated horribly in his head. _What the hell did we even do last night?_

“Patrick.” David gently shook the shoulder of the man lying next to him.

A loud grumble was the only reply.

“ _Patrick._ ” He was starting to panic a little.

“Mmnnnnn, David.” Patrick rolled over slightly, his eyes shut tight.

David grabbed Patrick’s left arm and inspected the ring finger.  _Shit_ .

“Patrick. What the fuck happened last night?”

“Umm...” Patrick turned onto his back and squinted up at David in the dark. “Judging from my headache, we got really drunk. And ow.”

David was still holding onto Patrick’s left hand. “What about  _this_ ?” he said in a low whisper, poking at Patrick’s new ring.

Now it was Patrick’s turn to panic. “Oh, my god. What did we  do last night?”

David swallowed hard and tried to remember. “We went for drinks with Amy and Andy who make the artisanal soaps…”

“…and I think we met up with Benji from the reclaimed leather handbags booth at karaoke?”

“Oh, my god, you did such a beautiful rendition of ‘Halo.’”

“Did I?”

David chuckled at the memory. “Yes. You  _may_ have dedicated it to ‘the best boyfriend in the world, and also my mom,’ and cried a little.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, what were we drinking?”

“I’m afraid to look at the tab.”

Patrick  _really_ didn’t want to know, then. This trip was already stretching the budget, and they hadn’t made any particularly great contacts at the convention.

“Did… did we go to a drag show at some point? I’m just seeing, like, flashes of feathers and a disco ball.”

David laughed. “That could have been anywhere. But I think so.”

“And then there’s this.” Patrick sighed and wriggled his left hand.

“I’m scared to look.”

“Let’s do it together.”

The two roused themselves from bed, tripping over whatever clothing was strewn on the floor— _was it all clothing?—_ and stumbled to the bathroom.

“I’m gonna flip the switch, David.” He knew it was going to be bright.

“Ugh.” 

Light filled the hotel bathroom and they both groaned, then inspected themselves in the mirror.

“When did I put on eyeliner?” Patrick said, noting the blue streak from his right eye that went all the way down his cheek.

“Who the fuck used _glitter_ near me? This will never come out of my hair.”

“We really must’ve gone to a drag show.”

David was still cringing and inspecting his mussed and sparkly hair. Patrick loved him, even looking like that.

“Honestly, it’s not a bad look for you.”

David’s mouth curled into a full snarl and he nodded unconvincingly. “Uh huh. Right. I just have to wonder where  _else_ I’m going to find glitter.”

“Speaking of shiny things…” Patrick finally looked at his hand. David followed suit.

“It’s… _gold_.”

Patrick was quiet. Of  _course_ he’d thought about marrying David. He just expected he might actually remember doing it.  But he had to say something.

“My mother is going to be so upset.” She would be. She’d been so excited about Rachel. And she had barely met David.

“ _Your_ mother is going to be upset?” 

Patrick had to laugh at that—Mrs. Rose was constitutionally incapable of not giving a good dramatic performance in response to personal news.  _Should I still call her “Mrs. Rose”? It seems so formal for a mother-in-law…_

David seemed to have settled into a less manic level of anxiety, He just stood there, shaking a little, twisting his new ring. Patrick pulled him into a hug.

“Are you going to be OK?”

“I don’t know what to think about this. Are _you_ OK?”

Patrick sighed. “I’d be lying if I told you I hadn’t thought about this. Well, in general.”

A smile crept into the corner of David’s mouth.

Patrick took a deep breath. “I just… figured we’d _plan_ it. And pick out rings we actually _like_.” He watched David’s smile turn into a grin.

“Well. There’s no reason we can’t have, say, a tasteful reception later on. Or a vow renewal ceremony.”

Now Patrick was grinning. “So you’re OK with this?”

“I’m… I’m not _not_ OK with this.”

Patrick pulled his boyfriend-- no, _husband_ \-- into a kiss. “That was very convincing.”

“Oh, you need convincing?” David immediately regretted the suggestion that he had a fraction of the energy necessary to follow through on that promise in the moment. He rubbed his temples, deflated. “Did we pack any aspirin?”

“I think I can scrounge something up. Can you turn on a light, Mr. Brewer?”

That earned him a dirty look.

“Brewer-Rose?”

David’s face crinkled.

“Rose-Brewer?” It was too much fun.

“Do we need to decide right now?” David made his way back to the bed and turned on the lamp.

“Hey, what do you think about matching suits for the reception?”

“Have we consummated this union yet, because I think I want an annulment.”

Patrick’s head was heavy, but he felt too good. He got two glasses of water and found the aspirin in his suitcase and sat next to David on the bed. He popped the pill in his mouth and raised his glass.

“To us.”

David rolled his eyes and smiled, clinking glasses.

“To my husband.” Patrick practically glowed hearing him say it.

“And may the smoothie bar in the lobby have a hangover cure.”

They drank, swallowing their aspirins.

They had the rest of their lives to deal with everything else.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments much appreciated if you enjoyed this and want to encourage my occasional writing habit. Or find me on tumblr @yerbamansa.


End file.
